


Demons Run

by Untilwemeetinhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Untilwemeetinhell/pseuds/Untilwemeetinhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Possession and Exorcism from a Demon's Point of View</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons Run

Soaring through the putrid pollution the common population lovingly calls air, I kept an eye out for a worthy victim. I passed old, young, weak, and strong willed before finally finding an inebriated man lying comatose in an alley outside a bar somewhere around New York. Floating silently down, I melted into him, stretching my being into every nook and cranny of the man’s existence. In that moment, I knew all he knew, remembered things even he couldn’t recall on a good day. It wasn’t a very exciting few seconds, to be honest. Unfortunately, he also knew everything there was to know about me and mine.  
He gasped at the sudden intrusion, adrenaline forcing his eyes open to reveal pure black orbs to anyone that would have been close and sober enough to notice. The abnormality only lasted a moment before fading back to ice blue irises against the bloodshot whites of his eyes. He lay panting on the ground as I settled in for a long stay, nestling into the darkest corners of his mind. He would know I was there but he had control over his own actions. For now. I just wanted to see how this would play out before taking over for good.  
Fighting through each panicked breath, the human struggled to his feet, stumbling out of the alley and into the crowded city street, bumping into a stranger hurrying home from work.  
“Please, you have to help me.”  
We were shoved away, a disgusted sneer gracing the other man’s face. “I’m not helping some low life pay off his drinking debt. Take it like a man and get out of my way.”  
“No, wait! You don’t understand. Please.”  
Spewing some choice words, the business man picked up his pace and disappeared around a corner. My vessel stumbled towards another man coming from the opposite direction. Grabbing the elderly gentleman by his lapels, he dropped to his knees. The stupid human was begging! In my body!  
“Please, help. There’s a demon inside of me.”  
“There’s a demon in all of us, son.”  
The elder patted us sympathetically on the shoulder before walking off and leaving him shocked and crumpled on the ground, head in his hands. If I didn’t jump in now, we’d be lying around for a while.  
“You and I are going to be having a lot of fun. So you may as well sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”  
He barely got out of a moan of “No” before I took control and brought him to his feet. A yellow grin broke across his grimy face. With complete control now that the man knew he couldn’t fight back, I was able to test the functions of my new body. I pushed my arms out to either side of me, flexing and stretching the muscles to get a feel for their limits. Not the best I’ve used but certainly not the worst. I stood to my full 71 inches to get the kinks out of my back and to relieve the aches in my legs. Rolling my head around to crack my neck, I let the black pass over the man’s eyes once more before we blended in completely with the surrounding crowd. I had big plans for my vessel. Big plans.  
\-----  
“Demons run when a good man goes to war.” The TV was blaring in the corner as I worked. The silence when we first started was tedious so I dragged in a television to keep us company. Flipping through the channels before I had started today, I managed to find an episode of Doctor Who I hadn’t had a chance to watch yet. Of all the things humans brought to this world, British television might have to be one of the only positive additions. “Night will fall and drown the sun when a good man goes to war.”  
We had a good run going for almost a year now. I made sure to clean up after my victims, leaving false trails and pointing fingers at the people that just weren’t worth my time. Things were going swimmingly and my future was looking bright. I wouldn’t need shades but it was unpleasant for normal eyes to stare at for too long. “Friendship dies and true love lies. Night will fall and the dark will rise when a good man goes to war.”  
My latest victim was my - well not so much mine as my vessel’s - boss. He had made the last 49 weeks near Hell for us - and I would know - so he was bound to wind up here eventually. The blood running from the man’s chest felt like liquid gold between my fingers. I really only needed his heart but I had to saw through ribs and remove the sternum to get to it. I cracked his clavicle to be sure I could get through before moving his lungs aside to locate my target. It was still beating when I began to remove it, carefully slicing the arteries holding it in. The man was still whimpering under my hands but I knew he wouldn’t be more than a few seconds. My vessel’s soul had stopped fighting months ago. I had thought he’d be at least a little pleased at this latest victim’s fate but he remained curled in the corner of his own mind. Things had become quite dull since then, to be honest.  
I could smell them before I could see them. A mix of salt, Holy Water, gunpowder, blood, and an overabundance of cologne. The smell was familiar but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Despite their attempts at stealth, I could hear two sets of footsteps echoing down the halls.  
I had to suppress a groan of annoyance at the interruption. Wiping the excess blood on my pants, I left the blubbering mess of a man drowning in his own fluids while I went to greet the new arrivals. It was as I met the wrong end of a shotgun that I realized what the smell was.  
Hunters.  
Not just your run-of-the-mill, shoot-for-the-thrill, “Help! I shot my foot off” kind of hunters. This kind hunted my kind. And by the look of it, they knew what they were doing. I wasn’t going to let them leave. At least, not in one piece. Letting the black leak back into my vessel’s eyes, I hissed and lunged for the taller one with a smaller gun. He rolled me under him and everything went dark.  
\-----  
When consciousness decided to revisit, I let the pounding in my head settle before I opened my eyes. Taking the opportunity, I assessed the vessel and everything I had put it through so far. He’d been shot, dropped, and broken in every sense of the word. The only reason his soul was still in here was because I was still here. When I was gone, he wouldn’t suffer long before he vacated as well. Shame. It was fun playing with him while it lasted. I had hoped I’d have a lasting effect after we parted ways.  
Having finished my internal observations, I turned my senses outwards. I could feel rope cutting into the human’s sensitive flesh at my wrists, shoulders, waist, and each ankle, binding me to a chair. There was rough wood shooting splinters into my arms and it wasn’t too comfortable in the rear either. There was a bad taste in the back of my mouth and I cursed the human for being human. The smell of the Hunters was still there, accompanied by the rotting flesh of my victims and the singed plants I use in rituals. The Hunters were close enough that I could hear them talking but far enough that I could decipher their words. I smirked at the argumentative tone. Any chaos was good chaos.  
Finally opening my eyes, a quick scan of the place showed I was still in the warehouse where I had been practicing my arts. The TV had been turned off so the arguing voices were the only sound breaking the otherwise silent room. My newest sacrifice was still on the altar and the rest of them were still hidden in - well, if I told you, that’d ruin half the fun. However, there was an addition to the decor that I didn’t particularly like. There was a very large and very accurate Devil’s Trap painted around my chair. Which means that this Devil was trapped. I couldn’t leave the human no matter how hard I tried. Unless I was lucky enough for someone to break a line. Let me tell you, when I was human way back when, I was carrying a whole slew of gambling debts. Luck wasn’t something I was known for.  
The two separated, the shorter one staying in the door while the taller one - he looked kind of like a puppy, actually - meandered over to stand just outside the circle. He flipped a book open to a dog eared page to start reading.  
“If I leave this, the human is going to die. I’m the only one keeping him alive right now. Do you really want to be responsible for the death of this man? I mean, I’m okay with it, but-”  
“Regna terrae, cantate Deo...”  
The Latin words ignited a fire in my fingers, burning through my palms to the rope binding my wrists. The burn rivaled that of the rage boiling inside me. I was just starting to have a little fun! I wasn’t going to leave now!  
“You’ll regret this! I swear, you’ll wish you had never crossed me! I’ll turn you into shoes! I’ll enjoy watching you burn! I - Ahhh!”  
Fire shot through my arms, the scream I had been biting back tearing through my teeth.  
“...omnis immundus spiritus...”  
The vessel’s chest was heaving as I gasped for breath I wouldn’t normally need. I could feel sweat running down my back, giving me yet another reason to despise humans. “...satanica potestas...” I was fully consumed by the fire now, though we were still only in the beginning of the ritual. I contorted the limbs of my cage, feeling a wave of fire wash over me again. The worst was in my lower back and no amount of impossible distortions would relieve the pain.  
“Shit!” Did I say that? “Stop!” Incompetent humans, leaking from all orifices. Why was I already losing control? “Sto-Ahhh!”  
“...inferi tremunt. Ab insidiis...”  
“Please! Stop! I-I can help you!”  
“What do you mean?” Finally, the puppy stopped, looking at his partner where he had spoken from the door.  
“I can tell you where there are more of us. I know where most of them are. I can bring you to them. Just, please. Don’t send me back.”  
“How do we know you’re not lying?” The younger one looked back at me.  
“Fine, um. There’s a group of them that meet every Friday at the local diner. Today’s Friday, right? You can go now and check it out. And another one lives next to Zac Efron in-”  
“Nice try but we’ve already taken care of them. Finish it.”  
“N-Ahhh!”  
“...diaboli, libera nos, Domine...” The fire reignited, leaving nothing behind from where it had stopped.  
I started seeing flashes of the flames I would soon be returning to. The reds and blacks and golds of Hell. But this wasn’t my home. It was deeper than where I had been turned from a sniveling human to the powerful being I am - or rather was - today. I didn’t want to go back. I’d be punished. They wouldn’t let me out for years. My superiors were looming over me. But of course, I couldn’t hear anything. I could never hear anything. Just deafening silence. I coughed and felt part of me break away, escaping the vessel but evaporating from sight. I knew we would be reconnected soon enough. I tried to hold the next one in but it broke free anyway, resulting in a hacking fit, tossing more pieces of me into the air where they disappeared.  
“...Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae te rogamus, audi nos...”  
I felt hooks in my shoulders and arms and sides and it hurt and I didn’t want to go back but... I had to. It was too late for me. I had to man up and face my punishment. The hooks pulled and my vessel wretched and I was a black cloud hovering in the air before exploding in agony and returning to the poor excuse of a place I call home. “...Benedictus Deus. Gloria Patri.”  
At least the bloody human hadn’t survived.


End file.
